The Guardian Angel
by Justen Matthews
Summary: Damien Moreau has escaped San Lorenzo, and he wants vengance against the Leverage team for putting him behind bars. His favotire spy, Morgen, is the obvious choice for the job as she is Eliot's adopted sister. The only problem is Morgen herself. But Morgen finds escaping Moreau is not nearly so easy, and the Leverage team are in danger of being caught in the middle.
1. Chapter 1

_What happened to my perfect day?_

Morgen cowered back against the TV set, asking herself that question over and over as three men in black towered over her. She wished she was taller so she could look them in the eye and not seem so helpless.

For the second time that night, her apartment door was kicked open. Morgen turned her head slightly to see another tall man stride into her tiny home. He surveyed the room as though he owned it, which made Morgen's blood boil.

_This had been the perfect day_, she thought again. First there had been the lovely thunderstorm to wake up to; then, there was the thick mystery novel she had never read at the library that she checked out, took home, and was halfway through by the evening. The only thing that had dulled her bright day was that little trip and the news it brought, but she had determined nothing would spoil her good mood.

_Well, the idiot smiling down on me may change that._

"Morgen, dear," he purred. "I'm so glad I found you at home. You are so difficult to find these days, especially since you failed to leave your next address with our boss."

Morgen attempted to straighten herself, partially to ease the pain on her spine, partially to convey to the intruders that she could not be pushed around.

"What do you want, Cofsky?" she demanded. "I left you and your boss with instructions to never bother me again. I did what he wanted me to do, and he was supposed to leave me alone!"

"Hm. Yes, I guess that was the deal. Too bad it expired."

Morgen started forward, but the meaty hand of a goon shoved her away. Her neck snapped back as she hit the TV once more.

"Now, now, is that any way to treat my favorite spy?"

Morgen's stomach sank to her toes as the last person she wished to see came in behind Cofsky.

Damien Moreau glided in, smooth as a cat, if cats dressed in long black coats and shiny shoes. He cast his black eyes over Morgen's figure and smiled. Morgen wondered how someone so cold hearted could have such a warm smile.

"Morgen. How nice to see you again. Has Cofsky informed you on our little predicament?"

"I believe he was just getting to that." Morgen glared at both men, wary of the three hunks of muscle still leering at her.

"How much do you know about Nathan Ford?"

Morgen's mind raced. _Nathan Ford. Head of the phony consulting company, Leverage. Put Moreau in prison in San Lorenzo last year_.

She shrugged. "I know a great deal about everybody."

"I need you to get rid of him and his little _team_." He drew out the last word disgustedly. "He has been a thorn in my side for too long."

Morgen shook her head. She rose, brushed by the men, and entered her kitchenette.

"I told you this two months ago, Damien. I am through working for you. You let me go and promised to let me be." She pulled a jar of Nutella out of the pantry and dug into the chocolaty gooiness with a large spoon.

Moreau merely snorted. "I think you will find it will not be so easy to escape me, Morgen."

Morgen studied him though half-closed eyes, the spoon halfway to her mouth. "I can still kill your three henchmen and disarm your lackey, you know. You don't scare me."

Moreau came close to Morgen and leaned forward. "How is your brother doing these days?" he asked in her ear. "I haven't seen him much lately."

Morgen shut her eyes and pressed her lips together. "You wouldn't," she whispered.

"You will do this for me, sweet Morgen, or you will have the pleasure of knowing you brought about your brother's downfall. And if that fails to motivate you sufficiently," she heard a sneer creep into his voice, "I have other means. I know about your little trip today."

Morgen's fingers curled around the handle of the spoon in a stranglehold.

Moreau drew himself up and stepped back. "Bring me Ford and his team. I prefer them to be alive, but if you must kill them yourself, have at it."

"How soon do you want them?"

"Oh, a deadline isn't important at this point. I know you like working at a more leisurely pace." He grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Just don't disappoint me."

Morgen waited until the last footsteps of Moreau and his men had died away before she moved. The Nutella had lost its appeal. She stuck the spoon back in the container and leaned against the kitchen counter.

_Screw my day, what happened to my life?_


	2. Chapter 2

Inside his comfy living room, Nathan Ford kicked back and sighed with satisfaction. He loved it when everything started coming together.

Next to him, Alec Hardison smirked and took a long drink from his two-liter.

"Yeah, baby," he gloated. "That's how we do!"

Nate chuckled quietly. He really should remind Hardison that the con wasn't finished yet and to not get cocky, but he decided to let the young man enjoy this moment as much as he himself was.

Sophie Devereaux's smooth voice spoke directly in his ear.

"Nate, I'm on my way back now. Eliot should be there before me."

"Alright, Sophie. Nice work."

Nate wished he could contact Eliot Spencer and Parker, the other two members of his team, but Eliot had broken his ear piece through which they communicated, and Parker had taken hers out to avoid setting off any alarms. Oh, well. He would just have to wait until they came to his apartment.

Nate stood and went to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of amber-colored liquor.

"When we're done with this guy, Nate, the Thompson's will have enough evidence to make sure he never gets out of prison." Hardison couldn't wipe the wide grin off his face.

Before Nate could reply, there was an urgent knock at his door. Nate frowned. He looked at Hardison, who shook his head.

"Mr. Ford?" A woman's voice. Quiet, but pleading. "Mr. Ford, please let me in. I need your help."

Nate opened the door to find a girl, about eighteen, standing in the hallway. Her jet hair fell into her face, and the collar of her long coat was turned up past her chin. She had buried her hands into her pockets.

"Mr. Ford?"

"Yes." Nate stepped back to let her in. "Who are you?"

Once inside, the girl pushed her short hair back. Her eyes were a startling blue. "My name is Morgen Spencer."

Nate shut the door. Hardison stepped forward, clearly entranced.

"Alec Hardison." He stuck out his hand.

Morgen shook it, studying him. "I know who you are. You're the greatest hacker this side of the Atlantic."

Nate watched Morgen carefully. Her voice carried the faintest trace of an accent, though from where, he could not tell.

Hardison shrugged modestly. "I just do what I do, ya know?"

Morgen turned back to Nate. "Mr. Ford, I need your team's help."

"Who's following you?" Nate asked suddenly.

A slight smile started in the corner of her mouth. "They told me you're quick, I just thought they exaggerated. I'm not being followed. His cronies have spies everywhere, and I didn't want him to know I was here."

"Who's he?"

The door to his apartment swung open. Nate whirled around.

"Nate!" Sophie gasped, supporting the limp Parker. "Nate, she's hurt."

Hardison was at her side in an instant, scooping the blonde thief into his arms and bringing her over to the couch. "What happened?" he asked.

"I dunno, she was passed out in the back of my car when I got there. I didn't even know she was there until she groaned."

Morgen crept forward, her quick glances telling Nate she hadn't missed a thing. Hardison laid Parker on the cushions. With a gasp, she woke up.

"Hardison!" she cried. "Hardison, stop!"

Hardison's eyes widened. He stepped away, hands in the air. From her position behind Sophie, Morgen saw Parker's right arm hang loosely at a strange angle.

"She's dislocated her shoulder," she said. Sophie, startled, turned to face her.

"Oh, hello. Who are you?"

Nate waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah, introductions later. Right now, Hardison, we need to get Parker to the hospital."

The two men started to pick Parker up gingerly, but she protested.

"They know my face, Nate. They saw me!"

"We'll just have to risk it, Parker," Nate grunted irritably.

"I can do it."

Everyone stared at Morgen. "You can do what?" Nate frowned.

"I can put her shoulder back in place."

Nate's frown deepened.

"No offense," Hardison said, "but I think we'd rather—"

"I've done it dozens of times. Did it to myself more than once. Besides, from what I gather, it could put your mission in jeopardy if someone saw Parker's face."

"Will you people just make up your minds?!" Parker growled. "Let her try, Nate, and if she's makes it worse, Eliot can make her dead later."

Nate shrugged. Parker was laid back down, and the Leverage crew made room for Morgen.

Sophie leaned over and whispered to Nate, "Are you sure this is the best idea?"

Nate watched Morgen as the girl expertly ran her hands over Parker's arm. She was talking quietly to the thief, who nodded. Morgen smiled and titled her head, speaking again.

"Yeah, I do," Nate replied.

Morgen continued talking to Parker, whose face lost some of the pained look she had woken up with. Suddenly, Morgen's hands moved. There was a loud _pop_, and Parker groaned. Morgen kept a hold on her shoulder, feeling to make sure everything was as it should be, then nodded to herself.

"Your shoulder is back in place, but you won't be able to use it for at least three days. You'll need to wear a sling."

Parker sat up and cautiously moved her arm. Her face pinched. "It still hurts," she complained.

Morgen laughed. "I said I could fix it for you, not that I could make you pain-free. It will be pretty sore for a while."

Parker gave a side-long look, realizing that she didn't know the person who had just put their hands all over her. "Thanks," she muttered, looking mildly concerned. "Who are you?"

"Morgen Spencer. I came to ask Mr. Ford if you all will help me." She glanced once more at Nate.

"What do you need, Miss Spencer?" Nate asked, leaning against his kitchen table.

Morgen rose to her feet and swayed. Catching her balance, she stuck her hands in her pockets again. Nate noted how pale and drawn her face was.

"I need your help taking an enemy down. I can't do it by myself, but if I had a team with me, I think we'd stand a better chance."

She stared beseechingly at Nate, whose expression remained stony.

"I'm sorry, Miss Spencer, but I'm afraid we can't help you at the moment. As you can see, we have our own work to do, and your little vendetta doesn't concern us."

The room became silent. Morgen's shoulders slumped almost unperceivably, though her lips were pressed together tightly.

"I can be of assistance to you," she said quietly. "I can help you if you'll help me."

Nate shook his head. "I am sorry," he said, "but you'll have to find someone else to help you."

Morgen nodded. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Ford. I'm sorry to have wasted it."

She walked to the door, her head hanging a little. Just as she reached for the handle, Eliot opened it and bumped into her.

"Nate, what's—woah, 'scuse me!"

Morgen didn't move. She stared at him for a minute before she could speak. "Eliot?" she whispered.

Eliot's eyes widened. "Morgen?" He reached for her arm. "Morgen, what are you doing here?"

Morgen knees gave out under her, and Eliot barely had time to catch her before she hit the floor. Gently, he picked her up and held her close, her face in his chest.

"You got a guest bedroom anywhere?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at Nate.

He pointed upstairs. "No, but you can take her up to mine."

The rest of the Leverage team watched Eliot as he climbed up the spiral staircase to Nate's room.

"What on earth was that all about?" Sophie asked once they had gone.

"Eliot obviously knows Morgen, and his appearance startled her." Nate poured himself another drink and stared thoughtfully at the glass, his brows furrowed in his deep concentration.

"Well, yeah, but she didn't have to faint like that," Parker muttered.

Nate shrugged. "All of you failed to notice something peculiar about her. The girl's exhausted. She couldn't hardly stand upright when she walked in here, and she wasn't expecting Eliot to run her over."

Footsteps clomped down the stairway, bringing Eliot back downstairs. "Nate, is it cool if I crash here tonight? I don't wanna leave her."

Nate shrugged. "I suppose a night on the couch won't kill me."

Eliot nodded and reached for the handrail.

"How is she?" Sophie asked.

"I don't know. She woke up for a second and seemed kinda delirious, so I told her to go back to sleep."

"Who is she, Eliot?" Parker asked.

"Probably some girl he knew way back when," Hardison smirked. "Another one of his _close_ friends."

"Shut up!" Eliot took a step towards Hardison, whose smile faded. "It's not like that, man. She's my sister."

Everyone stared at Eliot in stunned silence. Parker was the first to recover.

"But she looks nothing like you. How can she be your sister?"

"She was adopted."

Parker's eyebrows shot up.

"Do you know from where?" Nate asked, still looking upstairs, as though he could see right through the ceiling and into his bedroom.

Eliot shrugged. "She never said."

"Why does it matter, Nate?" Sophie asked.

Nate pursed his lips. "It may not. She kept referring to a "he", though."

"Yeah, um, can we talk about this is the morning?" Eliot gestured with his thumb to the second floor.

"Of course. Hardison, Parker, Sophie, we'll meet back here tomorrow morning. We've still got the Thompson's to think about."

Nate didn't get much sleep that night, and it wasn't just because he slept on the couch. His mind was busily trying to figure out the new puzzle presented by the pretty girl with blue eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

_Morgen found herself in a very familiar room, surrounded by very familiar men. The one sitting leisurely before her was Damien Moreau. His robe was tied loosely at his waist, and in his hand he held a glass of red wine._

_ "Morgen, my dear. I thought I told you I wanted the Leverage team brought to me, not your excuses."_

_ Morgen straightened and stared him squarely in the eye. "I won't do it," she said. "I'm finished working for you, Damien. You'll have to find someone else to help you."_

_ Moreau looked mildly disappointed. He waved to one of his men._

_ "I figured that would be your answer. You're so predictable, Morgen, so I sent some men after you to make sure the job was done."_

_ The door behind her opened, and the Leverage team was shoved in to the hard floor. Moreau rose._

_ "As promised," he continued, pulling a gun from his pocket, "you, Morgen dear, will get to watch me kill your brother."_

_ Eliot, blood trickling down the side of his face, was hauled up to his knees. Morgen screamed and rushed forward, but Moreau's finger was faster._

"Eliot!"

Morgen sat bolt upright, heart pounding, the sound of the gunshot still in her ears. Sweat drenched her shirt and made her hair stick to her face.

A door swung open, casting a beam of light into the dark room. "Morgen?"

Morgen sighed and tried to stop her panting. _That's Eliot's voice. He's okay. Moreau hasn't killed him._

Eliot kneeled next to the king-sized bed. "It was just a dream, Morgen," he said soothingly.

Morgen held her head in her hands. The image of Moreau with his gun at Eliot's head made her want to throw up. "Where am I?" she asked faintly.

"In Nate's room."

_Nate._ Morgen's mind began to sort through the real and the fictional. _Nate Ford. I came to see him last night. That's right, I was leaving because he said they couldn't help me when I ran into Eliot._

It had been a long time since she'd last seen her brother, but she knew those wonderful grey eyes and surprised look too well. She hadn't been able to think when he walked through that door, only gape like a beached fish. But after that…

"What happened?" she asked.

"You passed out on Nate's kitchen floor." He grinned slightly. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"You did, though. I never would've…Wait, what are you doing here?"

"I work for Nate now."

_Work for Nate now. Had Moreau known? Of course he had, that sick, twisted, slimy…_

Now Morgen really did want to throw up. She sat up slowly.

"How do you feel?" Eliot asked, sitting next to her. The mattress sagged, and the jostling did nothing to make her feel better. She stifled a groan. "Terrible" is what she wanted to say, but she knew better than to worry Eliot.

"Uh, okay, I guess."

Eliot cupped her chin in his hands and forced her to look at him.

"You're lyin'."

Morgen sighed angrily. "It's nothing, Eliot. Just a bad dream. I'm fine, really!"

Instantly, she regretted her tone. Eliot's face darkened.

"I'm sorry, Eliot," she said softly. "I'm tired. That dream…" She shuddered involuntarily and closed her eyes again.

Eliot scooched closer and rubbed her hands between his. "Wanna tell me about it?"

She shook her head. "No, no I don't. What I want is a shower. Do you think Nate would mind?"

Morgen stood and stretched. Her stomach had settled down, much to her relief, and she yawned.

"I doubt it," Eliot answered. He made his way to the door. "Hurry up. I'll try to have breakfast ready for you, but Nate likes my cooking. There may not be anything left if you take too long."

Despite Eliot's warning, Morgen stood for a long time in the shower, trying to wash away the remnants of her dream. She threw her clothes back on, wishing she had new ones, and wiped the condensation off the mirror. Her reflection was a bit cloudy, but she saw the dark rings under her eyes.

Of course Moreau knew Eliot worked for her target. This way, he was all but guaranteed that she would do whatever he said. The threat of hurting Eliot was real, but if he wasn't there, Morgen would've found some way to find Eliot first and warn him.

"I'm going to have to rethink this," Morgen told her reflection. "I can't let him get to Eliot."

She ran her fingers through her hair and forced a smile. The pathetic grimace in the mirror made her chuckle.

"I am rather a mess, aren't I?"

X

Morgen came down to the brightly lit kitchen. With quick, practiced glances, she surveyed the room and pieced together what she could about Nate.

_Mostly clean rooms. He's not married, but he was once. He works better in a tidy space, and I'm sure Sophie is here often enough to justify cleaning it up. He has some money, but he doesn't want to associate himself with the people he brings down, so he lives here._ She remembered the bar on the floor below, McRory's. _Some sort of family tie. Must've been the bar his father ran._ A chessboard sat on the coffee table. _The pieces have been moved. He likes to designate one to each player in his cons and move them as the game moves._

Her thoughts were interrupted by Nate himself.

"How are you feeling, Miss Spencer?" he asked.

Morgen wrapped her arms around her waist. "Hungry. You haven't eaten all of Eliot's breakfast, have you?" She smiled.

"I saved you some," Eliot said, pulling a pan out of the oven. "You were up there so long I was startin' to think about eating it myself."

Morgen eyed the pancakes and sausage. Her stomach growled. Eliot handed her a plate and syrup while Nate pulled a chair up to the bar for her. As she ate, the men talked over her head.

"The rest of the team should be here within an hour," Nate said. "Then we can discuss what to do next. Parker can't go tonight, not after the security saw her. We may have to come at this from another angle."

"The entire foundation of the Thompson's case is in those documents, Nate. There isn't another angle."

"Yes, there is." Nate glared at Eliot. "I just haven't found it yet."

Morgen looked up. "What documents?" she asked.

"Documents proving that Smart Water Industries is making an illegal drug," Eliot answered. "Smart Water makes…"

"They make bottled water," Morgen finished. "They're one of the biggest bottled water companies in the US. Does this have anything to do with the new flavored water they are releasing next month?"

Nate's head jerked to look at Morgen. She couldn't help giving him a smile of surprised innocence. "Shocked I know so much?"

"Very."

"Smart Water is making an illegal stimulant," Eliot continued, "and they're planning on puttin' it in the flavored water for people will become addicted to it and buy more of it."

"What was Parker's job?"

"Parker was supposed to get us into the president's office and hook up one of Hardison's devices so he could hack the mainframe, find the documents, and delete them before the president or one of his cronies does." Nate pressed his lips together. "But now that the security guards have seen her face, we won't be able to use her tonight."

Morgen's eyes lit up. She stole a look at Eliot.

"I could do it."

Nate shook his head. "I told you last night, Miss Spencer—"

"You said so yourself, Nate, you don't know of any other way to pull this off. I have… experience in this particular field. No one knows my face, I could go in tonight as anyone you wanted me to be."

Nate studied her. "You're a grifter?"

Morgen played with the end of her fork in the syrup. "I used to be, as well as a thief, hacker, retrieval specialist… Whatever my boss wanted me to be."

Nate's surprise showed plainly. "Who did you work for?"

Morgen wagged a finger in front of his face. "I'm sorry to keep secrets from you, Nate, but I've already told you more than I wanted to. Will you accept my help or not?"

Eliot crossed his arms over his chest. "Morgen, even if Nate agrees, I won't let you. It's too dangerous."

"Since when did you care about things I did?" she demanded.

"What's the catch?" Nate asked, breaking the tension. He smiled knowingly at Morgen.

"I help you, you help me. Simple as that."

"Ah, yes, help you take out some former enemy."

"My former boss, actually."

Nate looked impressed. "Lofty goals, Miss Spencer." He tapped his fingers on the bar, considering and holding Morgen's gaze steadily.

"Why should I trust you?" he asked finally.

Morgen snorted. "You were willing to trust three strangers and a woman you had dealt with twice when you put this team together. It should be of some comfort to you to know that I am related to someone you now put your life in the care of."

"Well said, Miss Spencer. I can see you know the art of persuasion quite well. Very well, then. I will agree to help you, and you will provide us with the necessary replacement for the job. But," he grew more serious and pointed a finger at her, "you will have to answer questions I will have. I can't let my team into a situation where they have to blindly follow the orders of someone they don't know."

Morgen bit back her cutting reply and simply nodded.

There was a knock at the door, and Sophie peeked her head in.

"Good morning!" she said cheerily, walking inside. "Do we have a plan?"

"We do, actually." Nate pulled her aside and spoke in the corner, leaving Morgen and Eliot alone. Eliot leaned forward.

"I can't let you do this, Morgen," he whispered vehemently. "You could be caught!"

"So could you," Morgen replied in the same tone. "I know what I'm doing, Eliot. And besides," she couldn't help adding, "since when does Eliot Spencer care about putting his little sister in danger?"

She saw she had stung him. He blinked slowly, then blinked again. Morgen went over to the couch and flopped onto the cushions, waiting for Nate and Sophie to realize she was there.

The adults' conversation ended abruptly. Sophie walked over to Morgen and sat next to her.

"I don't believe we've officially met," she said smoothly. "I'm Sophie Devereaux."

"Morgen Spencer." Morgen felt Sophie reading her the same way she had read Nate's apartment earlier and slipped on her stony mask. Behind this mask she had hidden many times, and many of the world's most intuitive people had misread and misjudged it.

"Eliot tells us you're his sister?"

"Adopted, actually, when I was eight." _A safe topic, sort of. Sophie could probably read into the answers and find what she wanted to know._ Unless Morgen refused to cooperate.

"Really? Eliot failed to mention you." Sophie looked questioningly at him. "Why didn't you tell us you had such a lovely sister?"

_Flattery. Supposed to make me feel comfortable and stupid._

"Safety. I worked for a lot of dangerous people, and they couldn't use her as a weapon if they didn't know she existed." Eliot sat in the chair to Morgen's left. "Hey, Nate, when's Parker and Hardison s'possed to be here?"

As if on cue, both came through the door. Parker's arm had been put into a sling, and she seemed to feel uncomfortable without the use of her right hand.

"Sorry we're late. What's the plan?" Hardison leaned against the back of the couch. Parker placed herself on the other side of Sophie, eyeing Morgen suspiciously.

_She really is just like a child._

Nate stood in front of the large flat-screen mounted on the wall. "Things will go tonight as we planned," he said, hands clasped behind his back. "However, due to the guards having seen Parker, Morgen here has agreed to help us. In return, we are to help her with her little problem of taking out her former boss. Clear so far?"

"Who did you work for?" Hardison asked.

"And are we sure that it's a good idea, bringing in a _girl_ to do this?" Sophie chimed in. She gave Morgen an apologetic look. "No offense, sweetheart, but do you have any experience in this kind of thing?"

Morgen bristled. Before she could speak, Nate cut her off.

"Morgen has agreed to answer our questions, which we can ask after this is finished. And, she assures me she is quite capable for the job."

_Quite capable_.

"So," Nate smiled pleasantly, "now that that's settled, let's bring Morgen up to speed on our plan of action for tonight."

Hardison shrugged. He picked up his remote for the TV and flipped it on. A shot of a man's face appeared on the screen, as well as pictures of newspaper articles and publicity photos.

"This is the president of Smart Water Industries, Samuel LaFey. His company has been working on a new line of flavored water, one with an illegal stimulant mixed in. People drink the water, get addicted to it, and buy it like crazy. Only problem is, the drug starts to kill a person after about four bottles, but nothing can link it to the drug because the death looks like natural causes."

Hardison clicked the remote, bringing up a picture of an invitation to the Smart Water Gala.

"Tonight, LaFey's hostin' a party at his house, where his computer is. Since the man refuses to do any work in an actual office, we have to break into his personal one and get the files that show he knew about the stimulant and its side effects but didn't do anything about it."

Morgen leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she observed the pictures of LaFey on the monitor.

"I take it he enjoys the company of pretty women?" she asked, pointing to one of the pictures.

Hardison nodded. "Very much enjoys," he said disgustedly.

"That's where you come in," Nate interjected. "You will distract LaFey and find us a way into his office without his extensive security finding us."

Sophie stood. "Maybe I should do that, Nate," she said, giving him a look that told Morgen this had been the topic of conversation ten minutes ago. "You know, since she's new to this whole thing."

Morgen crossed her arms. "No offense, sweetheart, but in case you missed it, LaFey likes _young_ women, and I am significantly younger than you."

"Morgen's right," Hardison commented. "None of his closest female friends were over the age of twenty-five."

Sophie glared at him.

"So all you need me to do is find a way into LaFey's office?" Morgen asked. "Should be simple. Once I'm there, what do I do?"

Hardison handed her a black flash drive. "Insert this into a USB port." He paused. "You do know what that is, don't you?"

Morgen gave him a withering stare. "One of those holes in the side of the computer thingy, right?" she said sardonically.

"Hey, sorry! Eliot doesn't know the difference between a USB port and the "on" button, so…"

Eliot protested.

"Hey man, just because I can't wipe files or whatever it is you geeks do doesn't mean I'm an idiot!"

Morgen chuckled. "What do I do once I've put it in?"

"Nothing. I'll do what I do from there, you'll just need to keep out of sight until I'm done so you can take it out and get the heck out of his office."

She pocketed the flash drive. "I got it. Find a way in, let the geek do his thing, and get the crap out. Anything else I should know?"

"The Gala starts at nine," Nate said pointing to the invitation. "Eliot will be playing the role of your chauffer, and Sophie and I will be there to help out if something goes wrong. Hardison will be inside his van close by. Other than that," he shrugged. "We're good."

Morgen stood. "See you all tonight, then."

"You're leaving already?"

She frowned at Hardison. "Already? I think I've overstayed my welcome, don't you?"

"Well, do you want to stay? Nate's got a sweet TV, and I need a new opponent for Mario Kart."

"Mario Kart, huh? I guess I don't have anything better to do. I get a wheel, though."

Hardison grinned and moved to set up the game. Morgen saw Parker retreat into the corner of the couch and pull out a lock, which she proceeded to unlock and check the time on her watch. Morgen scooted over to the thief.

"How fast can you unlock that thing?" she asked.

Parker looked suspicious. "14.8 seconds"

"Impressive." Morgen reached for the lock and the paper clip Parker held. "May I try?"

The thief handed them to Morgen. She bent the paper clip into a peculiar shape, then smiled at Parker. "Time me."

Parker watched the little hand on her wristwatch for a second. "Go."

Morgen's fingers flew, and the lock soon opened.

"12.3 seconds," Parker declared, surprised. "Where did you learn to do it so fast?"

"I had lots of practice." Morgen flipped the paper clip and lock to Parker. "Hardison, the Wii set up yet?"

Morgen and Hardison raced three times before the hacker gave up. "Dang, girl, I've never played anyone who didn't know when to turn the wheel."

Morgen laughed. "Got anything else? I'm much better with the Call of Duty games."

"Don't do it, Hardison," Eliot warned. "She's got a deadly shot. You'll never beat her."

Hardison raised his eyebrows. "Sounds like a challenge to me. Ain't no one as good as I am, cuz I got cheat codes." He chuckled smugly.

Morgen crossed her arms. "I'll bet you twenty bucks I'll kick your butt even with your cheat codes." She stuck her hand out. "Deal?"

"Deal!"

Eliot shook his head. "You just lost twenty bucks, man." He grabbed a beer out of the fridge. Morgen noticed Sophie and Nate talking quietly in a corner.

"So this is what you guys do when you aren't out saving somebody?" she asked.

"Pretty much," Hardison answered, his head behind the TV. "Technically, this is Nate's place, but we use it as our offices."

"Cool. Spending all day playing video games must be nice. What kind of cheat codes you got, anyway? I didn't think this game had any."

"And that is where you'd be wrong, little lady." Hardison handed her a controller, smiling like a father explaining something to a child. "Everything's got cheat codes. You just have to be good at finding them. And on this game," he started pressing the buttons, "I have invincibility and infinite ammo. You can just go ahead and hand me that money, cuz there ain't no way you're gonna beat me."

Morgen looked unimpressed. "We'll see. You want anything from the fridge? I'm thirsty."

She got up and walked over to the refrigerator. "Who drinks this stuff?" she asked disgustedly, holding up a bottle of Hardison's favorite orange pop. The hacker jumped up.

"That is my special drink," he said, taking it away from her and holding it lovingly. "This is what I drink when I'm workin'."

Morgen grabbed a Coke and sat on the couch. "Orange pop, huh? You know that stuff will rot your teeth."

Slyly, Morgen glanced back. The hacker was busy putting his beloved drink back in its spot. As she sat down, Morgen switched her controller with his and leaned against the cushions. Parker caught her eye. Morgen winked at her and gave her a small grin.

"Are you coming?"

Hardison started the game, and Eliot and Parker gather closer to the TV to watch. Even Nate and Sophie stopped their conversation to see what would happen.

Hardison made comments throughout the round, making up for Morgen's silence. Her character ducked behind a barrel for a second, dodging Hardison's shots. Then, rolled out of cover and decapitated him with one shot.

Hardison was speechless. "How did you…?" he finally managed. "But I had invincibility!"

Morgen and Parker laughed. Hardison glared at Eliot, who shrugged.

"What's so funny?" Hardison demanded.

Nate patted the younger man on the back. "You didn't see her switch the controllers?"

Morgen waved it in the air. "I had three options, actually: steal your controller, punch in the codes myself, or deactivate your cheats. Stealing the controller had the least likelihood of you catching me."

"One of the oldest tricks in the book, Hardison," Sophie said. She gave Morgen a friendly smile. "Distract the target and take what you need when they aren't looking."

Hardison wagged a finger at Morgen. "Very clever," he said good-naturedly. He dug into his pocket and slapped a twenty dollar bill into her hand, but Morgen pushed it away.

"No, I'm not taking that. We both cheated, now let's play again without cheat codes and switched controllers and we'll see who's the best."

Morgen glanced at Eliot, who shook his head, laughing. She focused on the game, but she felt warm.

_They actually like me. I'm hanging out with them for the sheer heck of it, and they like being around me._

X

Her car was in the same place she had parked it last night, but something still felt off. Morgen kept her pace the same, all the while throwing quick glances up and down the street. Nothing happened, however, and she got into her car.

"Hello, Morgen."

Morgen reacted. Swinging her fist around, the keys between her fingers cut into something soft. A hand caught her wrist, stopping her momentum.

"Moreau," she growled. "What do you want?"

"Put you keys where they belong and drive where I tell you."

"Why should I?"

He cast her a condescending stare. Morgen clenched her jaw and pulled her hand from his, sticking the key in the ignition. Moreau stayed silent until they were out of sight of the bar and driving into the city of Boston.

"How goes your progress?" he asked, keeping his dark eyes fixed firmly on her face. Morgen hated it when he did that. Aside from Eliot, he was the only person who could read behind her mask, her shrugs, and her tones.

_I hate him so much._

"Fine. I have to gain their trust before I can get at them, so that may take a little time." She kept her gaze on the road. "You failed to mention Eliot was part of the team."

"Did I? Perhaps I thought you already knew."

"Don't give me that crap, Damien."

"Still with such a quick temper. That could get you killed one day, Morgen. How long do you think it will take you to gain their trust?"

She gave a quick rise and drop of her shoulders. "I don't know exactly."

"An estimate, then."

She tapped her finger on the wheel. "It's only been three days since you gave me this job! I can't give you any estimate. Eliot trusts me, but it will take longer with the others, especially the Devereaux woman."

Moreau pointed to a little side road, to which Morgen turned. He motioned for her to stop. Once the car had been parked, he leaned over and held the back of her neck tightly. Morgen sat still, her hands still on the wheel.

"You would do well, Morgen dear, to watch that tone of yours when you speak to me. You are not out of my reach yet, and I can still have you taken out of the picture if I wanted to. How are you feeling, by the way?"

_Like I could rip out your heart and throw it onto the highway!_ She kept her mouth shut, however, and didn't voice her thoughts. To her chagrin, tears began to gather and fall down the side of her face. She shut her eyes, but they didn't stop.

"Emotional, I take it. Just don't let your emotions get in the way of what you need to do. I know you haven't forgotten what's at stake for you." He smiled wickedly, then let her go. Morgen turned her head to her arm, not wanting him to see her cry any more than he already had. She heard the door open, felt it shut. There was silence.

Morgen cautiously took a breath. It came as a series of short gasps, followed by a slight wheeze. Morgen held her head in her hands and sobbed.


	4. Chapter 4

As agreed, Morgen met Eliot at McRory's. She stepped out of her car, careful not to fall in her steep heels. She fixed the thin strap on her arm and opened the door to the bar.

Heads turned and stayed focused on her. She came up to the bar and ordered herself a drink. The bartender handed her the shot glass.

"On the house, pretty miss," he winked.

Morgen smirked and took a drink.

"What are you doin'?"

She didn't look at Eliot, who had come up behind her. "Playing my role, Eliot. Shall we go?"

He led her to the back, where a limo waited. Morgen ran her finger along the side of the car.

"Where in the world did this lovely thing come from?" she asked.

"Just get in."

Morgen waited until they had been driving for about five minutes before she knocked on the dark glass dividing the back from the driver's seat. Eliot rolled the window down.

"Something's wrong, Eliot," she said. She rested her arms on the window. "What have I done?"

Morgen saw his knuckles turn white.

"Eliot," she started in a softer voice, but he cut her off.

"Don't say anything, Morgen! Just do your job."

She waited, knowing there was more coming. He rubbed his chin with his thumb.

"I haven't seen you in five years," he continued, subdued. "I thought you were… I thought you were where I left you."

"In the hands of Damien Moreau," she whispered.

"Yeah, there. And then you suddenly you reappear, and you're so…" He paused. "You're so different."

Morgen reached in and ran her fingers through his hair. "I'm not that much different, Eliot. But five years is a long time, and I have changed. I'm sorry for lashing out at you earlier today. I didn't mean it. You know I would never do anything to hurt you."

Eliot caught her gaze through the rear-view mirror. He held her fingers gently. "I know."

They rode in silence, fingers still intertwined. Morgen repressed a sigh.

_Oh, Eliot. You really have no idea. I love you so much._

Morgen cleared her throat and sat in the seat opposite. "Enough of that," she said, grinning. "Any more of this sappy, mushy stuff and I won't have much of a character to work with. How far away are we?"

Twenty minutes later, Eliot had parked the limo and opened the door. Morgen put the earpiece Eliot slipped her in its place and triple-checked to make sure the flash drive was in her purse.

"Alright, Morgen, now remember the plan."

She started as Nate's voice sounded in her ear. "Do you always nag so often?"

There was a chuckle she guessed was from Hardison. Morgen smiled to herself. Then, she took Eliot's hand, stepped out of the limo, and morphed into a different person.

The man at the front door held a list in his hand. Without hesitating, she walked up to him.

"Excuse me, sir," she said innocently, using an Irish accent, "is this where I check in?"

"Uh, yes it is," the man stuttered. "What is your name, please?"

"Mr. LaFey told me to tell you that I'm one of his special guests."

He read her look and smiled. "Of course you are. Please go right ahead. Enjoy the party."

Morgen strode inside the large mansion. She smiled prettily at few people, ignored others, and slowly made her way deeper through the house.

_Now. If I was to find this LaFey, where might he be lurking?_

A group of young women caught her attention. They were clustered around the mini bar in the center of the large party room. She thought she heard a deeper voice mixed with their higher ones.

_Found him._

Morgen stepped up to the bar near the giggling girls, where she could just see through their long hair. LaFey sat in the midst of them, smiling like a schoolboy. Morgen ordered a drink and perched herself precariously on a barstool. Further away, she saw Nate and Sophie enter, arm in arm. Eliot, she knew, would find himself an unused uniform and blend in with the rest of the servers, and Parker had latched herself to Hardison, refusing to stay at home.

Nate gave her a tiny nod. Morgen raised her eyebrows at Sophie, who looked away.

"And another round of drinks for my friends here," LaFey called, rising to his feet. Morgen started to stand, as well, but her heel caught on a rung of the barstool and she tripped. Her drink splashed all over the company president.

"Oh!" Morgen cried, aghast. "Oh my heavens, I am so sorry! Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, miss, I am fine," LaFey sputtered, striving to wipe the liquid from his suit. Morgen grabbed some napkins and started blotting at the dark spots.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Mr. LaFey! Here, let me take this off for you."

LaFey stared at the dark red nail polish she wore and followed her arm up to her face. He found himself face to face at a young woman with black hair, bright blue eyes, and wearing a deep blue dress. Instantly, his annoyed demeanor changed.

"That won't be necessary, my dear," he began.

"Oh, but you can't be seen wearing a soiled jacket," Morgen insisted, pulling his coat off and folding it over her arm. "I'll give this to one of your people."

She turned and motioned to one of the servers carrying an empty tray. "Take this and have it washed," she ordered. "Mr. LaFey was unfortunate enough to have Òrla run into him tonight."

"Unfortunate?" He chuckled pleasantly. "I hardly think so. Òrla, is it? Is that German?" He stuck his hand out.

"Òrla Kavanagh, Mr. LaFey, from Nestle Incorporated. And it's Irish, actually." Morgen leaned against the bar, laughing.

"What's so funny?"

_The way you said my name. Your pronunciation is terrible._

"Nothing, I am simply relieved this little accident hasn't ruined this lovely evening."

LaFey moved closer. "On the contrary. I think it has brightened my night significantly."

There was a growl in Morgen's ear from Eliot.

Morgen smiled coyly. "I'm glad you think so, Mr. LaFey."

"Please, call me Samuel."

Before long, Morgen had managed to shoo away the other girls and had LaFey all to herself. She found him to be what she expected: pompous, but a bit slow. She situated herself so their knees bumped together. LaFey was quite taken by her.

"Òrla," he said, "you are the funniest woman here tonight!"

"Okay, Morgen," Nate said in her ear, "hurry it up."

Morgen pressed her finger to her ear and pretended to fix the strap on her heel. "You can't rush my, Nate, unless you want a poor con," she replied. Then, she leaned forward and stroked LaFey's hand. "I've had a lovely time at your ball, Samuel, but I'm afraid I shall have to play the role of Cinderella very soon and leave." She pouted her lower lip. "My flight home takes off early, early tomorrow, and I can't miss it by sleeping in."

LaFey looked crestfallen. "Is there nothing I can do to make you stay longer?" he asked. He put his hand on her leg. "I've so enjoyed talking with you."

"Well," Morgen started shyly, "I've always wondered what the office of the president of Smart Water Industries looks like. Could I… would you? Maybe?"

"Of course, my dear!" He sprang to his feet and took her hand. "Come with me."

Together, they weaved through the crowd, Morgen with her arm tucked firmly in LaFey's elbow. He took her up several flights of stairs and down quiet hallways until they came to a large door.

_Ah, so that's where the clever boy hid his secret office—in his bedroom. I must say, LaFey, very sly._

He pushed open the door, and they entered an enormous bedroom. He flipped a switch, and a chandelier lit up, revealing a room out of a movie. There was a four-poster bed, a couch, and a dresser, and a door Morgen assumed led to the bathroom. Two bookshelves sat against one wall. What caught and held her attention was a huge portrait of LaFey, staring benevolently at the bedroom.

"I do a lot of my work here at my office. I don't trust my people to keep the company's secrets if they saw them on my computer and files, so I keep them here."

Morgen looked around. "But, I see no office." She giggled. "Are you telling me you lie in bed all day and work there?"

"Hardly, my dear," LaFey said proudly. He walked up to the frame of the portrait and moved one of the knobs. The bookshelves slid back to reveal another door. Morgen gasped.

"A secret door? How very innovative of you, Samuel!" She allowed him to lead her in, eager to see what it held.

It was a regular office, stashed away in the small, secret room, with a desk, a computer, a chair, a filing cabinet, and lamps to make up for the lack of windows. Morgen slid into the chair.

"I must say," she said softly, crossing one leg over the other, "I am very impressed, Samuel."

LaFey put both hands on her knees. "You impress me, Òrla. You impress me very much."

There was another growl in Morgen's ear. _Shut up, Eliot!_ LaFey placed his lips on her cheek. Morgen twittered and kissed him on the mouth.

"You smell exquisite," he remarked, kissing her again.

"Do you like it?" she purred. Morgen rose, reaching into her purse. "It's a special blend I make myself. Would you like to smell more?"

She brought out a tiny bottle and spritzed some in his face. Then she kissed him once more, catching him under his arms as he sagged. Quickly, Morgen dragged him to a corner and ran back to the computer.

"Hardison," she said, dropping her accent, "Hardison, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, girl, I hear you. What happened to LaFey? I've never seen anyone drop that fast."

Morgen glanced at the ceiling, where a camera blinked at her. "You saw that, did you?" She drew the flash drive from her purse. "It's a special brand of perfume, all right. It's a scent that will knock out the person I spray it in the face of. I made it myself."

She put the flash drive into a USB port and watched the screen flicker to life. She rose and went to check the bedroom. There was no one there. She ran as fast as she could in her heels to LaFey's body.

"So he's unconscious?" Parker asked. "When will he wake up?"

"Not until tomorrow morning, or when someone wakes him up. He'll have a nice, peaceful sleep till then." Morgen grunted as she hauled him across the floor and over to the bed. _Mother of pearl, LaFey! Lay off the barbeque wings._ "It doesn't leave any traces in his system, so if he gets suspicious, a drug test won't show anything. It's quite handy to have, actually. You want me to make you some, Sophie?"

There was no answer, and Morgen finished pulling LaFey onto the thick blanket.

"Morgen, what are you doing?" Nate asked.

She gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Making sure things appear as though LaFey had a nice night before his date disappeared."

There was a sound from the other room. Morgen ran back. The screen had turned blue.

"I'm done," Hardison said. "Get the flash drive and bring it back to me."

"Get out, Morgen. The longer you stay in there…"

"The more likely I'll be caught," she said irritably. "I got it, Nate."

Parker laughed. "That's funny, you sounded like Eliot," she remarked.

"Yeah, Parker, I know."

Morgen retrieved the flash drive and ran back to the door. She paused.

"What's wrong, Morgen?" Hardison asked, concerned.

"Nothing," she lied. "Checking the hallway. Stop worrying."

She drew in a deep breath, willing away the slight dizziness, and opened the door. The hallway was clear, and she had no trouble making her way to the outside and the back alley where Hardison had parked his black van.

The doors swung open at the first knock. Hardison reached for the flash drive and went to work on his computer. Morgen peeked over his shoulder.

"We got it?"

"Oh yeah, we got it, baby. We got it good."

"Alright, meet back at McRory's," Nate ordered.

X X X

Morgen stayed quiet as she rode with Eliot back to the bar, resting her head in her hand.

"What's wrong, Morgen?"

Eliot stared at her through the rear-view mirror, one eyebrow raised.

"Eliot, I'm fine!" she snapped. She remembered the ear bud and jerked it out of her ear. "Why do you keep asking?"

Eliot removed his ear piece angrily. "Because you're my sister, and I care about you." He cursed. "You used to not care when I asked if you were okay, remember that?"

"Yeah, well, that was five years ago, Eliot!" Morgen's voice was strained. "You seem to forget that I have lived in an atmosphere of men, where I've had to fight my way above the mob. No one cared about me, and those that did pretended to do so because they had an agenda." She stopped, panting. Eliot's concern was plain on his face.

"I don't say those things to make you feel guilty," she said, softening her voice. "I'm trying to remind you that I'm not the eight-year-old who staggered onto your farm, a helpless orphan who clung to you because her adopted father was a demented creep. It's going to take me some time to remember that there's still one person who cares for me and how to react to that."

Eliot nodded. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked in a gentler tone.

"Yes. I always forget that alcohol gives me an upset stomach. It's gone now. Why are we going back to McRory's?"

"Nate likes to celebrate when a mission is done right."

"Why does he want me there?"

"You were part of the mission, right? You deserve to celebrate too."

The Leverage team was in good spirits that night. Everyone, except Morgen, chatted loudly and toasted their success. Morgen sat on her barstool, sipping a can of Coke. Nate watched her out of the corner of his eye, not surprised when she suddenly stood, muttered something between tight lips, and started to leave. She held her side discreetly.

"Well done tonight, Morgen," he praised. He studied her reaction.

Morgen smiled thinly, dropping her hand. "Thanks, Nate. Glad I could help. What happens now?"

"We give the documents to the Thompson's lawyer, and Smart Water Industries is shut down. You should come back tomorrow morning when we give the news to the Thompson's. I'm sure they'd be happy to give you their thanks in person."

She nodded uncertainly. "I'm not sure…"

"Oh come on. You were part of the team tonight; you deserve to be there when we give them the good news."

A half smile crept onto her face. "I guess I was. Thanks, Nate. I'll be there."

Eliot started to rise when he saw Morgen walk out the door, but Nate stopped him with a look.

"Uh, Eliot, can we talk?" He motioned upstairs with his head. Eliot shrugged.

"Sure."

The other three continued their celebrating, not caring that Nate and Eliot had left. When they reached his apartment, Nat shut the door and put one hand in his pocket, the other rubbing his upper lip.

"What's up?" Eliot asked

"What can you tell me about Morgen?"

Eliot's expression became guarded. "Not much. Whaddya wanna know?"

"Who did she work for?"

Eliot crossed his arms. "I think I should let her answer those questions, Nate. Morgen has a lot of secrets, and I don't think she'd want me to share them. There's not a whole lot I can tell you anyway. She's pretty secretive."

Nate reached for his car keys. "Then let's go talk to her, shall we? Just the two of us. The others can find out tomorrow."

X

_Where is it? Oh gosh, am I out already? I can't be!_

Frantically, Morgen threw clothes out of a large trunk. Sweat made her short hair stick to her forehead in thick clumps, and she had to stop every few minutes and clutch her side, gasping in pain. She growled with frustration.

_I can't be out! I can't be. Think, Morgen. Calm your mind and remember where you put it._

_The bathroom! I'm such an idiot._

She staggered to her bathroom door. _Good grief, I've never been so happy to have such a tiny apartment!_ The syringe and vial with the clear liquid sat serenely where she left them in the cabinet over the sink. With trembling fingers, she stuck the syringe into the crook of her elbow.

There was a knock on her door. "Morgen?"

_Eliot._

"Morgen, we need to talk to you."

_And Nate. How much worse could this night get?_

She drew in a shuddering breath. _I can breathe. Finally. Pull yourself together, Morgen._ She glanced down at her sweat pants and damp tee shirt. _Well, I look like crap._

Morgen pulled the needle out of her arm and stuffed the syringe and vial into the cabinet. Then she ran her fingers through her hair and walked over to the door. The knocking had increased.

"Morgen? Morgen, are you there?" Eliot sounded worried. Morgen pictured her brother breaking her door down and threw it open.

"Morgen!" Eliot exclaimed.

"Eliot! What a surprise." Morgen was relieved to hear how steady her voice sounded. "And Nate? What are you doing here?"

She took a step back, letting the men in. Her bare feet stuck to the hardwood floor. Flopping onto the couch, Morgen looked at them both.

"I need to talk to you," Nate began, seating himself on an armchair. "I wanted to do it without the rest of the crew here."

"Your hoping this makes me answer honestly." A statement, not a question, but Nate nodded in response.

"And Eliot's here to corroborate my story?"

"Something like that."

"Nate was askin' me about you, and I told him you would want to answer his questions yourself." Eliot sat next to Morgen on the couch and leaned back, one arm behind her head.

"Questions about me and my past." Another statement that Nate chose to answer with a nod. "I guess you warned me this was coming." _Wonderful. I love interrogations._ "Go ahead, ask away."

Nate gave her a smirk. "You can lose the act with me, Morgen. I can read between the lines better than you think, but this can be less painful for you if you are honest with me."

Morgen smiled. "You should give me more credit, Nate. You'll find I may be more willing to help than you think. What do you want to know?"

Morgen's grin widened when she saw he was taken aback. _Didn't expect this brash girl to be so frank, did you, Nathan Ford?_ "What do you want to know?" she repeated.

"Who did you work for? Who was your boss?"

"Damien Moreau."

Nate was speechless. Morgen ran her fingers through her hair. "I worked for Damien for five years as a spy. His favorite spy."

Nate leaned forward, lacing his fingers. "You worked for Damien Moreau," he repeated slowly, enunciating each word. Morgen inwardly winced. "And how did you meet him?"

Morgen and Eliot glanced at each other. "I'm assuming you know Eliot worked for Damien. When he found out Eliot had a sister, he ordered Eliot bring me to him. I was one of his girls until he discovered I had talents he could use, then he made me one of his team. I proved myself often enough that Damien promoted me to his right hand man." She rubbed her arms as unpleasant memories arose. "He called me his Black Hand."

Eliot twitched. "I never knew that was you."

"Only those in Damien's closest circle knew who I was and what I did for him. You wouldn't have known unless you needed to, and you know Damien wouldn't have told you."

"You keep calling him 'Damien'," Nate commented. "Where you two close?"

"Yes."

"How close?"

Morgen raised her eyebrows. "Close enough to be the first to hear all of his ideas for schemes and help him perfect them. Like I said, I was his favorite for a reason."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it."

"You asked."

"How did you leave?" Eliot demanded.

"I knew you had left and wanted to follow, but Damien wouldn't let me go until I helped him get out of San Lorenzo prison."

"Moreau escaped?" Nate interrupted.

"I broke him out. Afterwards, he said he would leave me alone and let me live my life without his interference. But, two months ago, he found me. How he found me, I have no idea. He told me he wanted me to help him with a little project of his, threatening to hurt Eliot, to hurt _you_," she leaned against her brother, "unless I helped him."

"What was his project?"

Morgen shrugged. "I don't know, and I didn't care enough to ask. I told him no, but he didn't stop asking me."

"So, you want to take him down. Exactly why?"

Morgen thought of the syringe in the bathroom. "Personal reasons."

Nate nodded. He rubbed his hand over his face.

_He did that earlier today. He's thinking pretty hard._

"Alright. I think tomorrow, Morgen, we'll tell the team about our deal."

Morgen nodded.

"You know they'll have questions."

A nod once more. The power of speech seemed to have left her, and she felt the drowsiness she always felt after an injection settle over her like a cloud. She realized Nate was leaving and made and effort to let him out.

"No, no," he said, gently pushing her back to her seat. "You're tired. I can find the door myself."

Morgen mumbled something. The door closed. Eliot moved next to her. Suddenly, Morgen felt panicked. The conversation about working for Moreau had reminded her of the danger her brother was in.

"I'd better go, too," Eliot said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Eliot!" She grabbed his arm. "Please don't leave me." She fought to keep her eyes open. "Stay with me, please. I don't want to… I can't…"

Eliot silenced her by moving closer. "Sh, I'll stay. I'm not leaving, Morgen. Don't worry."

Morgen wrapped her arms around his waist. Eliot settled into a comfortable position and stroked the top of her head, whispering, "Go to sleep, Morgen. I'll be here when you wake up."

She closed her eyes, feeling safer than she had in a long time. She fell asleep with her head buried in her brother's chest, feet curled up, and Eliot's hand on her head. Morgen dreamt of nothing that night, nor did she wake up until the morning.


	5. Chapter 5

Morgen watched the Thompson's as they sat down in front of Nate in McRory's. They were middle-aged, but the wife had started to go grey. The husband had wrinkles around the edges of his mouth.

_The stress and loss of their son has aged them. I guess I would look similarly if something happened to Eliot._

Nate handed them a thick stack of papers Hardison had spent all night printing. The Thompson's held it in their hands like it was gold. Then they turned to the Leverage team.

"Thank you," Mr. Thompson said in a trembling voice. "Thank you so much."

Mrs. Thompson couldn't speak, so she rose and reached for Sophie, who was closest, with outstretched arms. Morgen, standing next to Parker, took a tiny step back.

"Do they always hug you?" she whispered to the thief.

Parker nodded. "The women do most of the time. I can't understand why, but Nate tells me it's because they're so happy they want to show me how much they appreciate us."

Mrs. Thompson came to Morgen. "I didn't see you before," she said, "but Nate said you were on this mission, too." She wrapped her arms around Morgen before she could jump away. Morgen forced herself to relax and pat the woman on the back.

_Good grief, woman, you reek of perfume! Don't cough, don't cough, don't cough._

Morgen cleared her throat. "I'm glad I could help."

The couple clutched their precious papers and left the bar. Their care-worn faces had a lighter expression than they had when they came in. Morgen frowned.

_This is why Eliot works for Nate. This is why they all do what they do. I didn't realize helping someone felt so good._

Nate waited until the Thompson's had walked out the door before he herded the crew and Morgen up to his apartment. They all found their favorite places to sit. Morgen held back.

_Two interrogations within twenty-four hours. Not sure that's ever happened before._

"Well, team," Nate said, standing in front of them. "I know we just finished the Thompson case, but we have another one we need to start right away. Morgen is in need of our help."

All eyes turned to her. She stubbornly kept hers on Nate.

"It would seem she is need in need of help in taking down her former boss, and, since she helped us with our situation, I agreed that we would help her."

"Who was your boss?"

_Of course it would be Parker who asked that._

Morgen stepped forward, hands buried in her pockets. The long sleeves of her shirt were twisted as her fingers worried them.

"My former boss is a man you put behind bars before," she said. "Damien Moreau."

Sophie glared at Morgen. Hardison and Parker stared at her with wide eyes.

"You worked for Moreau?" Parker said, narrowing her gaze. "But, we took him down. How did you escape? How did we never see you?"

"You never saw me or arrested me because I am the best at my job. I made sure I was nowhere near or involved in that little debacle in San Lorenzo. Damien kept me for the toughest missions, which is where I was during the time you put his behind bars. It took me forever to find out what happened, but I had him out of the island in two days." She couldn't help smirking proudly. "Damien let me go, and I thought he would let me be. He's found me again, though, and he wants me to help him again."

"So you want us to help you make sure Moreau never bothers you again, is that it?" Sophie asked bitterly.

"Hardly, Sophie. Moreau forced me to agree, and I need help getting out of this mess. I want your help to put Moreau behind bars forever."

Parker frowned. "You used to work for him. Now you want to hurt him?"

The thought of Moreau out of her life for good and unable to do anything ever again made Mogen's heart pound with anticipation. Her expression became stony.

"I hate Damien," she said in a low, dangerous tone. "I want nothing more than to see him suffering."

Parker nodded, understanding. The others felt a chill run down their spines listening to the blue-eyed girl.

"How did you get mixed up with Moreau in the first place?" Hardison asked.

_I didn't think he had a serious face._

"Damien…"

"I told Moreau I had a sister," Eliot interjected. "He told me to bring her to him, so I did. He liked her, so she stayed."

Morgen's chest ached as she listened to her brother speak. _I need to talk to him once this whole thing is finished._

"So," Morgen looked at each of the Leverage team, "will you help me?"

Eliot opened his mouth.

"Just a second, Eliot."

_Sophie. What am I going to have to do to earn her trust, I wonder?_

Sophie rose and stood over her. Morgen resisted the strong urge to take a step back as the Englishwoman encroached on her space.

_You had better be glad I'm not a violent person, Sophie._

"Why us, Morgen? Why do you need _our_ help? You said you're the best at your job, why can't you destroy Moreau yourself?"

Morgen lifted her chin. "Several reasons, Sophie. I knew you and your team had a history with him and had defeated him before and would likely want the chance to repeat that success. And, while I am the best at my job, my job was not taking down people directly. I stole secrets, I killed those in the way, but I was always the pawn, never the king. I can't do the same with Damien."

Sophie studied her, her suspicion clear.

_You can't read me, Sophie Devereaux. I dare you to try, though. Take your best shot._

"What do you see, Sophie?" Morgen asked very quietly. "Read any lies between my words?"

"I don't trust you," Sophie replied as softly.

Morgen blinked. "I don't expect you to. I just need help."

"What happens if you don't do what Moreau says?"

Morgen glanced at Eliot. "Damien had a strong grip on me. He knows me better than anyone besides my brother." Without warning, her throat tightened. She took a breath. "The first thing to happen would be to Eliot, and I don't want to think about what Damien would do."

Sophie's expression relaxed. She backed away and gestured to the rest of the team.

"I think I speak for everyone, Morgen. We'll help you."

Hardison and Parker nodded, and Eliot grunted his consent. Morgen's heart grew heavier, but she smiled anyway. "Thank you." She turned to Nate. "I was never the mastermind behind any operation, so I'd like to leave that to you. I didn't think you'd mind that," she added mischievously.

Nate paced along the length of his living room floor. Sophie returned to her seat, and Morgen placed herself on the floor by her brother. She touched his knee.

"I need to talk to you," she whispered.

Eliot frowned. "When?"

"Later."

"How much contact has Moreau made with you?" Nate asked suddenly.

"I haven't seen him in a while." Morgen shrugged. "I'll probably hear from him within the next few days."

"Good, good." Nate paced a few more steps then whipped back around.

_So dramatic._

"The next time he contacts you, agree to do whatever he says. Contact me or Eliot and tell us what his next move is. We'll figure out what to do from there."

"Can't you just find him and turn him in to the San Lorenzo authorities?" Parker asked.

"If you can find him," Morgen answered. "If you can find him, you'd have to present evidence to the San Lorenzo police and convince them that he deserves to go back to prison." She chuckled a little sheepishly. "I don't leave usually leave any loose ends, especially when I thought his freedom meant mine."

"No, no, no, no, we have to catch him doing something here, in the US." His face brightened. "We let him get away last time, we won't let it happen again."

"So that's all we can do?" Morgen asked. "Wait until he corners me, then tell you what he said?"

"I can't make a plan when the mark is in hiding and not doing anything."

Eliot frowned at Morgen. "Corners you? Has he hurt you?" A fire smoldered in his eyes.

Morgen felt her fingers reaching for the spot on her elbow where she had injected herself and balled them into a fist. "No."

Eliot smacked the arm of his chair. "Are we done, Nate?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, Eliot, we're done."

Eliot took a firm hold of his sister's hand and dragged her out of the room, down the stairs, and out into the street. He slowed his pace down to a leisurely stroll once they reached the sidewalk, but Morgen couldn't wrench her hand out of his.

"What's the problem, Eliot?" she demanded angrily. "You about killed me, dragging me down the stairs!"

"You didn't tell me Damien hurt you." Eliot's voice was a growl.

_If looks could kill, that pedestrian would be dead._

"He didn't!" she insisted. "You are, though. Let me go!"

He loosened his grip. "You're lyin'."

Morgen stared at the sidewalk. "You are, too."

"What are you talkin' about?"

"Oh, come on, Eliot! I know you still feel guilty about handing me over to Damien, even if you're pretending not to for my sake. You have to let it go, okay? You have to—"

"I can't, Morgen, I can't just let that go!" Eliot waited until they were alone on the sidewalk. "That was the worst thing I've ever done," he continued, subdued. "I promised you I would protect you, and then I gave you over to one of the most dangerous men I know."

Morgen squeezed his hand. "I'm not angry with you."

"You were, though. You didn't talk to me for months after Damien met you."

Morgen said nothing for several minutes. She stared at the buildings, at the people they passed, at the cars driving by, anything but Eliot. She knew she would cry if she saw the look she heard in his voice.

"No, I wasn't angry. I was hurt and confused. You were the first person in a long time who had actually cared about me without wanting anything from me, and suddenly you abandoned me." She smacked his arm as he started to speak. "Shut up, Eliot, you know I don't pour out feelings very often. I was upset, yes, but I got over it." She stopped walking and stared up at him. "I got over it because I remembered that night when you found me on your farm and convinced your parents to keep me. I knew that you still cared about me, even if you gave me to Damien." She choked on her words. "I forgave you a long time ago, Eliot. It hurts me now to see that you can't forgive yourself. You were the only family I ever had, and I hate seeing you like this."

Morgen's quick glances settled on a man leaning against a pole, talking on his phone.

_Cofsky._

Morgen sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "I gotta go," she said.

Eliot touched her arm. "Morgen."

She stepped away. "I can't stay, Eliot."

"Morgen!" Eliot stared hard at her. "This team I'm with. Nate, Parker, Sophie, and Hardison. They've become a family to me. They'd probably be cool with you being a part of what we do, you know, joining the family."

Morgen was speechless. _Join the team? Be a part of that? I could get used to Nate's nattering, and Hardison seems to like me._

She shook her head. "I'm not sure they'd be willing to accept me, Eliot. I worked for Moreau!"

"So did I."

"I'll think about it." She turned to leave, then paused. "They're that important to you?"

"Yeah."

She nodded slowly, burying her hands in her pockets. _Another complication._ "I'll catch you later, Eliot."

Morgen walked quickly back down the street, passing Cofsky without making eye contact. She started opening the door to her car, when she caught sight of her hand.

_I'm shaking. No, no, no! It couldn't have worn off already._

She jumped into her car and sped away, aware of the look Eliot gave her.

_I have thirty minutes. I'll be in my room in fifteen, but who knows who'll be there to greet me?_

She gripped the steering wheel in a vain attempt to make the tremors stop. They continued, however, and grew stronger. By the time she reached her apartment, the tremors had spread to her knees. A feeling of dread settled in the pit of her stomach when she saw her door.

_Kicked open. Damien must really want to talk to me._

Morgen stumbled into her living room. Moreau rose from his place on the couch, his expression grim.

"Welcome home, Morgen," he greeted, his voice cold. "We need to talk."

Morgen steadied herself against the kitchen table. "What do you want, Damien? I told you, I'm on top of things."

"How's it coming? Earn their trust yet?"

She nodded, forcing herself to speak. "They trust me. They're just waiting for you to make a move before they try to stop you."

Damien moved closer. "And what did you have in mind?"

His hands ran up her arms. Her shoulders shook as he placed his palms on them.

"Whatever you want to do, Damien. I just have to tell Eliot or Nate."

"You are shaking, my dear."

"I'm cold."

"Your face is flushed." He made a clicking sound with his tongue. "You know you can't lie to me, Morgen."

She dashed off in the direction of the bathroom, desperation making her reckless. Moreau followed, a sneer on his face. He watched her in silence as she withdrew the vial and syringe.

"Ah, so you're the one who stole from my supply," he chuckled. "I should've figured it out before now, but you always do such a wonderful job when you set your mind to it that I never guessed."

_Shut up!_

She laid the needle on her arm. Moreau placed his hands over hers.

"Please. Allow me."

He stuck the needle back into the vial and drew the rest of the liquid into the syringe until it was completely full.

"No! Not all of it!" Morgen gasped.

Moreau glanced at the empty vial. "This thing would've lasted you at least three weeks if you kept giving yourself those puny doses. This," he placed it on her arm, "this dose will last you three days." He leaned close. "And that is all the time I'm giving you, Morgen. Three days."

Morgen watched as he punctured her skin with the needle. "You said I didn't—"

"You have three days, Morgen. By Tuesday I want to have the Leverage team either in body bags at my feet or kneeling in front of me with guns to their heads."

The last drop of the liquid left the needle. Morgen wanted to cry.

"And," Moreau grinned wickedly, "once I have them, you can have your next dose."

"What happens to Eliot?" Morgen asked faintly, wanting to know but terrified of the answer.

"Do your job right and we'll see." Moreau tossed the vial and syringe over his shoulder. The glass shattered on the bathroom tile. Morgen stared blankly at the broken pieces, ignoring Moreau as he rubbed her cheek with his thumb, kissed her, then left her apartment.

_I can't get out of this. Moreau has me again._ A sob she hadn't realize was there escaped her throat. She sank to the floor, her back pressed against the door. She held her arm to her chest. _I can't escape him. Stupid. So stupid. How did I think I could? Idiot!_ She hit the wall with her fist, another moan slipping out. For a minute, she let herself release the stress that had been building for weeks, her head buried in her knees. Then she looked up suddenly and wiped her red eyes.

_There's no hope for me to get out of this mess, but if I could save Eliot one last time, that would make it worth it._ She thought about their conversation earlier that day. _And the Leverage team. He needs them, more than I need him. I could get a message through to Nate. He's clever, he'll figure something out._

Resolved, she dug through her bedside table until she found a blank sheet of paper and a pen.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Thank you for waiting patiently, reader. I know it has been a really long time siince I've updated. Life caught up to me, and I had to rewrite several chapters/the entire ending before I could post anymore. I'll shut up now. Enjoy! ~ Justen

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Morgen settled down on her bed, staring up at the blank ceiling. The motel had been the first place she had seen on her way into Boston, and she couldn't stay in that apartment after Moreau's last visit.

_Damien will find me here, but I'd rather talk to him here than at my place._ She cautiously touched the bruise on her arm. _Stupid needle. I must admit, though, I feel fantastic. Too bad it'll only last a few days._

The reminder of her deadline forced her to sit up, arms curled around her knees. _Three days. Well, two now. I hope that's enough time to protect the Leverage team and stop Damien. The plan I have is rather weak._

There was the knock on the door. Morgen didn't hesitate. She rose and threw the door open.

"Hello, Damien."

"Morgen."

_He's angry._

Moreau walked inside and shut the door. He held Morgen's arm, pulling her along with him, and sat on the bed.

"You thinking about running again?" he growled. "You left your apartment without saying goodbye."

"Hardly, Damien. Let me go!" Morgen wrapped her hand around his index finger and pushed it backwards towards his face. Moreau cried out, releasing her momentarily, allowing her to back against the wall. "What do you want? I've got my deadline, I've got a plan, I'm on it!"

"You have a plan, do you?" Moreau rubbed his aching finger. "Let's hear it then."

Morgen glared at him. "Bring Nate and the Leverage team to you. Keep Eliot safe."

_Crap._

That last part slipped out before she realized it. Moreau's lip curled scornfully.

"Of course. That isn't much of a plan, my dear. I've heard much better from you."

Morgen shrugged. _Me and my big mouth_. "You have a better one?"

"I do, actually. You have secured the team's trust, yes?"

She nodded.

"And you're sure they'll be willing to do whatever you say?"

Another nod.

"Good. Then tomorrow morning, you are going to call Nathan Ford and tell him that my target, a Mr. Roberts, is going to be visiting my offices tomorrow to talk over some things. I, of course, will end up taking over the company at the end of the night, but I enjoy watching the CEO of the largest corporation in Massachusetts squirm when he realizes it."

Morgen frowned. "You have another job going on?"

"Of course I do." Moreau gave her a knowing look. "Did you really think you were the only reason I made the trip here to Boston? Don't flatter yourself too much, Morgen. You are my favorite, but you have been absent for three months. Anyway, I suspect Nate will want to use that as the perfect opportunity to have me arrested, so I want you to tell him whatever you need to in order to convince him and his team to pay me a visit. Understand?"

"Call Nate. Tell him there's another company in danger of being swallowed up by you and he needs to make a move now." _I sound like a robot._ "Anything I missed?"

Moreau came close and pressed her against the wall. "Absolutely nothing, my dear. I am going to enjoy having you all to myself once more. It'll be just like old times, won't it?"

Morgen let him wrap his arms around her and place his lips on her cheek. _Just like old times._

Eliot's phone rang, abruptly interrupting the news he was watching. He glanced at the screen, recognized Morgen's number, and answered.

"Hey."

"Hey, Eliot." Her voice sounded different somehow. He couldn't put his finger on it. "Damien was at my apartment when I got home last night."

Eliot stood. "Is he still there? Want me to come over?"

"No, he's gone. He had my next step ready for me."

"What was it?"

She hesitated. "I can't tell you over the phone. Meet me somewhere?"

"Anywhere."

X X X

The café was the best place to watch people, Eliot always thought. That, or airports. Both places were busy, and lots of different people went in and out, unaware of the pair of eyes scrutinizing their actions.

Eliot leaned back in his chair, checking behind him. Morgen had told him three, right? He checked his watch. Two fifty-nine. He grunted and tapped the arm of the wire chair.

Morgen had sounded very different. Eliot mulled over it while throwing quick and uneasy glances around. Had she sounded scared? No, that wasn't it. Morgen didn't seem to feel fear, or if she did, she took great care to hide it. What then? Urgency, maybe, and determination. That was it. She sounded more resolved than she had for the last few days, like she had made up her mind about something and she was going to go through with it no matter what.

Eliot took a sip of the coffee in front of him. His leg was bouncing uncontrollably, and the longer he waited, the more anxious he became. He began to look at people's faces a little more intently, searching for a pair of bright blue eyes.

Someone bumped into him from behind and nearly fell over the chair. Eliot instinctively put his hands up to push whoever it was off of him.

"Read this with Nate," a voice whispered in his ear. A piece of paper was pressed into his palm, then the stranger rose and hurried off through the crowd. Eliot caught sight of a black trench coat and high-heeled boots before the person became one with the mass of people. But it was Morgen. He was sure of it.

Quickly, he went back to his car and drove to McRory's, the piece of paper safe in his pocket.

Nate was just drinking the last of his Irish whiskey when Eliot burst into his room.

"Nate, I saw Morgen. She gave me this and told me to read it with you before she got away."

"Was she being followed?" Nate asked, taking the paper and flattening it out on the table.

"I didn't see any of Moreau's men, but she fell on me in order to give that to me. She must have known they were around." Eliot peered over Nate's shoulder. The paper was filled with Morgen's clear handwriting.

Nate shook his head and threw his hand up in disgust. "I have no idea what she wants me to get out of this." He handed the note to Eliot.

Dear Eliot and nate, it began, and then continued on a long string of sentences as Morgen expressed how grateful she was that the Leverage team had agreed to help her, how she was glad Eliot had found a new family, and several other thoughts that made Eliot frown.

"What does she think anyone is going to do if they read this?" Nate asked. "It's a thank you letter! Did she agree to never send them out?"

Eliot lifted the letter. "It's a code."

That caught Nate's attention. "What?"

Eliot grabbed a notebook and a pen. "It's a code we came up with years ago. She would leave notes for me at the house, warning me if my dad was in a bad mood." He started writing. "Every second word after the one that's capitalized is the part of the real message. That's why your name has a lowercase 'n'."

Nate's brows came together. "How did Morgen look when she met you?" he asked intently.

"She didn't. She told me to meet her at some café, then handed this to me and left. That was it."

"Did you see her face?"

"No. Didn't need to. I know it was her."

"What does the note say?" Nate asked.

Eliot handed it to the older man, who snatched it and read it quickly.

_Nate, you are in danger. Damien is close. Listen to what I say and I'll explain. I have a plan, but it depends on your cooperation. Watch your back._

"What does she mean by 'listen to what I say'?" Eliot frowned.

"Listen… she could mean she's going to contact us again and speak in code and she wants us to pay attention."

Eliot nodded. "She did that when we were kids if the notes she left didn't warn me. Do you want me to call her?"

"You can try, but I doubt she'll answer our questions over the phone." He paused. "Let me call her."

Nate dialed the number and waited. There was one ring on the other end, then it cut to the voicemail.

"You've reached Morgen, I'll call you as soon as I can."

Nate hung up. "She's turned her phone off. We should go over to her place."

"She won't be there."

"It's alright, she doesn't need to be."

X X X

Eliot tried the knob. "It's been forced open recently." He studied the doorjamb. "More than once."

They walked into the empty apartment. Eliot made his way to Morgen's room.

"She doesn't have any clothes in her closet," he called out. "She must have left in a hurry, Nate."

Nate didn't respond.

"Nate?" Eliot found him kneeling in the bathroom. "What's up?"

Nate picked up a broken piece of glass from the tile. "It's a syringe. Was Morgen into drugs?"

Eliot put his finger to the floor in a tiny drop of clear liquid and brought it to his nose. "This ain't drugs. Not the kind you'd be addicted to, anyway. I don't know what this is."

"Yeah, and there's not enough here to get a good sample for Hardison." Nate rose. "Your sister doesn't strike me as a druggie, though. No, there's something else going on here."

"So what do we do, Nate? Has she been kidnapped?"

Nate snorted. "How many kidnappers do you know that would let their victim grab a change of clothes? You said her wardrobe was empty. She's gone into hiding, most likely. We won't hear from her until she wants us to. But until then," Nate pushed Eliot out the door, "we wait."

"Wait?" Eliot's voice was gravelly. "If she's in trouble, I have to find her, Nate! I can't wait for her to call me."

"And where are you going to look for her, Eliot?" Nate raised his eyebrows. "Hm? Morgen can take care of herself. We have to trust her on this."

"Yeah," Eliot growled.

"Tell me about her," Nate said once they were in the car. "You said she was adopted?"

"Unofficially," Eliot replied, one arm out the window. "She showed up one night, drenched from the rain. She was really sick, so I took care of her and nursed her back to health."

"She has a strong attachment to you."

"Yeah, she did. She used to get anxious if I was gone for too long. Not sure if she still feels that way, though."

"How old was she?"

"Eight. No idea where she came from, she would get real pale and refuse to tell me when I asked."

"How old was she when she met Moreau?"

Eliot pressed his lips together. "Do ya gotta ask all these questions?"

"Yeah, I do. I'm trying to read your sister, and since she's disappeared, I have to settle for your stories."

"She was thirteen," he mumbled.

"Wow. Moreau hires girls that young to work for him?"

"She didn't actually work as a spy for him until she was fifteen. Moreau taught her everything she didn't already know."

"She had previous experience?"

"I dunno. She had really good instincts and was really athletic. Moreau saw her potential and honed her skills."

"Is there anyone else she would talk to?"

Eliot shrugged. "She never mentioned anyone, but I doubt it. Morgen was something of a hermit. I was the only person she ever…" His voice drifted off, and Nate left him alone.

X X X

"This is insane, stupid!"

Nate watched Sophie through hooded eyes as she gestured angrily at the room. The rest of the crew sat around his kitchen table.

"You really expect us to trust some girl whom we've just met, who has disappeared to who knows where, to protect us from the man she used to work for?" Sophie slapped her hands on the counter. "Nate, have you lost your mind?"

"She fixed my arm, Sophie," Parker mumbled. "She didn't have to do that."

"All the more reason to question her. She didn't know any one of us, but she still agreed to help us."

"She's my sister," Eliot growled.

"She worked for Damien Moreau," Sophie insisted. "Worked very closely with him, if I understand it correctly."

Nate saw Eliot's fists clench and his knuckles turn white.

"Sophie," Nate said before Eliot could speak, "I'm confused. We help people in need all the time. Why does Morgen make you so suspicious?"

"Because, Nate, I can't read her!"

Nate raised his eyebrows. "Are you saying we should only help the people you can read?" he asked ironically.

Sophie glared at him. "What my point is that I don't think we can trust someone we know nothing about. Hardison and I did some researching on her while you were gone. She has no records anywhere, not even a birth certificate! We can't predict what she'll do next."

"That is where you're wrong." Nate smiled. "We have the advantage of having Eliot on our side. Eliot knows Morgen well enough to shed some light on her mysteries, and she'll help us with the rest."

"How?" Hardison asked. "I can't track her anywhere since she turned her phone off."

Nate threw the letter and Eliot's note on the table. Sophie snatched them up.

"What's that?" Parker asked.

"Morgen left us a note with several clues. She thinks we are all in danger, and she has a plan to get us out of it. Eliot has told me some things about Morgen that will help us, but we don't really have much of a choice. If Damien Moreau has escaped prison, he is going to want to take us out. If Morgen is working for him, she'll know his next move and be able to warn us." Nate raised his hands. "I trust her."

Sophie looked at him from over the top of the letter.

Eliot stepped forward challengingly. "I trust her."

"Me too," Parker chimed in. "She's Eliot's sister, and she doesn't seem bad. All the other people who wanted to hurt us looked mean. Morgen's nice."

Hardison shrugged. "I ain't got a problem with her."

Nate nodded. "Sophie?"

All eyes turned to the dark Englishwoman. She held their gazes, then turned to Nate.

"Alright, Nate," she said softly. "Alright. I'll go along with this. I don't trust her like the rest of you, but I know when to play along. What does Morgen want us to do?"

Nate glanced at Eliot. "Has she called you yet?"

"No."

"So… what do we do?" Hardison asked uneasily.

"Nothing we can do right now. She's probably still trying to find us a way out."

"Her message told us to watch our backs," Eliot remarked.

"So that's what we can do, watch ourselves and try to keep away from Moreau's men." Nate pursed his lips. "Course, it would be helpful if we knew who they were, but oh well."

Sophie crossed her arms over her chest. "What would happen, I wonder, if we found Moreau first?"

Everyone stared at her. "Don't give me that look! I mean, what would happen if instead of waiting around, we found Moreau and brought him down before he had a chance to do the same to us? Help Morgen out a little."

"We have no idea where to start looking," Parker objected. "How are we supposed to find one person in this city when that person doesn't want to be found?"

"I don't like it." Eliot's eyes blazed, and Nate felt sorry for him. He knew Eliot hated waiting, especially when someone he cared for was in danger. "Moreau could kill Morgen if he found out she's double-crossin' him, and we might blow her cover by snooping around. I say we wait until she calls us back and try to find out more then. Her deadline is tomorrow, so she probably won't wait too long."

"I agree with Eliot," Nate said. "Morgen has the best grasp of the situation, and she knows how to handle Moreau. We should give her a little credit and trust that she knows what she's doing."


	7. Chapter 7

Morgen called Nate's phone early the next day. Nate hadn't even woken up.

"Huh?" he groaned, blinking as he turned on a light.

"Nate, it's Morgen."

"Yeah, uh huh." Nate swung his legs out of his bed and rubbed his face. He glanced at the clock on his wall. 6:30 in the morning.

"Nate, I need you to wake up!"

He couldn't help being gruff. "Yeah, Morgen, I'm awake. What's the problem, daylight is too late for you?"

"Nate, please listen! "

The urgency in her voice finally registered in his drowsy mind, and he became alert. "I'm listening."

"Do you trust me?"

He frowned. What was she getting at? "Yeah, Morgen, I trust you."

"No, I mean really. Do you trust me like you trust my brother?"

"Yes, I do."

She exhaled deeply. "Good. Then you must listen to everything I say, even if it seems ridiculous. Your life and the rest of the team's lives depend on it. Understand?"

"Not really, but go ahead."

"Damien is moving on a target tonight at seven. He's some CEO of a company in the city and Damien's going to take control of the company. He wants to personally meet the target and his team in Damien's offices here in Boston. I'll be there for the interrogation, but someone else is bringing him here. Damien's offices are full of security guards, as well as hi-tech security I'm sure Hardison is going to drool over. With me so far?"

"Yeah, I think so, but—"

"Don't interrupt, I don't have a whole lot of time." Her voice cracked. "I'm sure you can find a way to take Damien down without my help. He's done plenty of illegal things while here in the US, and I'm willing to be a witness if police or whoever needs verification. I have a plan to get you and the team out of this. I can't tell you what it is for certain reasons, but it is imperative that you trust me. Understand?"

"Got it."

"Good. I have to go; Damien's waiting for me." Her voice sounded tired.

"Morgen."

"What?"

Nate was taken aback by her angry tone. "You know what you're doing here, right? I'm not going to regret letting you do this?"

"I…" She gave a sharp bark of laughter. "I'm going to do my best to keep you and the team safe. You've taken care of Eliot when I couldn't, and it's my turn to take care of you."

Nate heard a knock form the other end. "I gotta go," Morgen said in a rush and hung up. Nate set his phone next to him and put his hands at his knees, completely baffled. He picked up his phone again and dialed.

"Eliot, you busy?"

X X X

"So, that's all she said?"

Nate nodded, his hand to his chin.

"Was she speakin' in code again?"

"No, no she wasn't. Moreau has another target besides us. Morgen seems to think this would be the perfect time for us to catch him in the act, I guess."

"But she said we were in danger. Why would we be in danger if Moreau is looking at another target?"

"There are several reasons. Maybe Moreau likes having more than one things going at a time. Maybe he wanted to take care of his problems in the States all at once while he was here. Or, it could be a story Morgen made up to persuade us to agree."

Nate thought for a few minutes, then said curtly, "Get the team together. We need to plan."

Morgen paced back and forth in her room all morning, racking her brain for a plan that would foil Moreau's. Lunchtime rolled around, and still she had only a very faint idea of what to do.

_Damien knows they're coming, so I can't pretend they're not. He's really going to have a target on his way here, but he knows Nate will be trying to get the guy out of here, so he'll be expecting him._

_I could go now and take whatever documents Nate would need to give proof to the authorities. Damien trusts me; it would be child's play to steal from him again. But how would I keep Damien from catching them?_

She stopped and leaned against a wall, tapping it with her finger. Then she suddenly had a thought.

_If I only knew where Damien was taking the team when he had them caught… I could… and then I would… Yes!_

Morgen smiled to herself and resumed her pacing, formulating and perfecting her idea until she had a fool-proof plan. Then she slipped out and made for Moreau's room.

Ten minutes later, she crept back into her room and quietly shut the door. In her hands she held a black memory stick, which she tucked deep within a pocket close to her skin. Then she lay down on the bed and closed her eyes, running through her plan over and over until it played out in her dreams.

X X X

_6:45. Fifteen minutes. I hope this works._

Morgen leaned her head on her hand, appearing bored and calm, though her heart raced faster than it had in a long time. It was tricky business trying to rescue someone when she didn't even know what they were going to do next.

_I hate making things up as I go. Guess this is a good time to practice again._

After she woke from her nap, she had put on her favorite trench coat and waited for the fated hour to roll around. Her nervous fingers felt all of the pockets repeatedly, checking to make sure her personal gadgets were still where they should be.

_6:50. I wish I had a toy to make time go faster._

She took a deep breath and walked a few steps. _Breathe, Morgen. No sense working yourself up before you've even started. You know what you're doing. Trust yourself._

Outside the room she had taken in Moreau's offices, she heard a door open, male voices speak quietly, and another door shut.

_Cofsky and the target. Five minutes early, as usual._

Morgen opened the door and peered out. _If he's early, I can be, too._ With determined strides, she walked across the hall to Moreau's room and threw open the door.

"Ah, Morgen. So nice of you to join us."

Moreau stood in the center of the room, an empty chair in front of him. He wore a white shirt and black pants, a blood-red flower in his lapel. His holster was over his shoulder, his pistol tucked inside. He crossed has arms across his chest. Morgen felt herself instinctively shrink away when she saw the grin on his face.

"Us, Damien? Who's "us"? And where's the CEO you were going to interrogate?"

Strong hands gripped her from behind, pushing her hands up her back and forcing her to fall to her knees. Moreau came to her and knelt down, cupping her chin in his hands and lifting her head.

"There is no CEO, Morgen," he said softly. "There was only you. I had to tell you something to make you move so quickly."

Horror began to settle in the pit of Morgen's stomach. "What are you taking about?"

"And then you had to double-cross me like that!" He made a sound with his tongue. "Not like you to be so sloppy, Morgen. You have become very lazy while you were away from me. I'll have to remind you of what happens to my spies who fail their missions."

He waved a syringe in front of her face. "How are you feeling, my dear? You'll need this very soon. But you'll have to wait until the Leverage team is here and they're dead."

He motioned to the man holding her, who hauled her to her feet and brought her over to Moreau's desk. Morgen bit his hand and drew blood. The man, who turned out to be Cofsky, screamed and punched her in the cheek.

"Don't you even think about givin' me any trouble, missy!" he hissed in her face. "No one's going to object now if I find it fit to hit you, got that?"

Morgen spat blood in his face. "I might object, and I can still hurt you."

Cofsky glared at her. She held it steadily, daring him with her eyes to try something. Finally, he turned away, grumbling to himself.

_It's a wonderful thing I'm good at bluffing._ She wiped her bloody lip on her shoulder.

"So why am I here, Damien?" she demanded.

"You're here to finish the job I gave you," he replied, sneering. "I would normally just shoot you for treachery, but it will be much more rewarding for me to watch you shoot your own brother.

"You see, Morgen, I know you very well. I knew you would not take kindly to my forcing you into an agreement, and I knew you'd want revenge. What better way to do that than to help the people who stopped me before do it again? I gave you time so you could formulate a plan, then I gave you a deadline so I would know when you would move. You are always so predictable. All I had to do was think like you and the rest was simple."

He glanced at his watch. "And speaking of simple, the Leverage team will be here in three seconds."

There was angry shouting outside the door. Cofsky handed Morgen to Moreau, who kept a cruel hold on her wrists.

"You will do exactly as I say, Morgen," he growled, his mouth in her ear. "No more tricks, no more games. Your life depends on it."

_Don't I know it._

Cofsky's men burst into the room, dragging the Leverage team along with them. Eliot had a cut on his head, and Parker looked as though she'd been pulled out of an air vent.

"Hello, Nathan Ford," Moreau said. "I trust you were given a warm welcome?" He towered over Nate. "I'm sorry for the roughness of my men, but then, one can never be too careful when dealing with enemies. Isn't that right, Morgen?"

Eliot glanced up, eyes burning like coals.

"As I was explaining to Morgen just now, there is no CEO to interrogate. I had to tell my best spy a story that she'd believe in order to find you and bring your team to me. I wanted nothing more than to retrieve my prized possession and take out my greatest enemy in one trip. And now that I have you, Morgen is going to finish what she started and kill the lot of you."

Morgen jerked. "You can go—"

Cofsky slapped her hard. "Shut up, you!"

Eliot struggled to get free. "Let her go, Moreau!"

Moreau released Morgen's arms and slapped his pistol into her hand. "Do it, Morgen, and I'll have your next dose ready for you."

Morgen stared at the gun, thinking quickly. For a terrible second, she considered what would happen if she turned the gun on Moreau.

_Cofsky will beat me to death, and his goons will finish off Eliot and the team. Damien has to stay alive for now._

Suddenly, she took out the clip and raced to the open window in the opposite wall. With one hard throw, she launched the clip out of the room and into the street.

"I'm not going to hurt them, Damien!" she declared, facing him. "You want to kill them, you do it yourself."

Cofsky dealt her a swift kick to the stomach, sending her back into the wall and down to the floor. Morgen gasped, then curled up into a ball to protect her head as the punches and kicks rained down on her. Faintly, she realized Eliot was shouting.

"That's enough."

Moreau's quiet words had an immediate effect. The room fell silent, Cofsky stepped away, and Morgen let her arms drop. Warm blood dripped down her cheek, and her ribs ached.

Moreau slowly walked over to Morgen. He crouched down and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

"Alright, Morgen, since you are set on being difficult, I see I am going to have to be a little more forceful. Cofsky, take her along with the Leverage team."

She was hauled to her feet and pulled out of the room by Cofsky. Eliot managed to free himself for a second.

"Morgen!" He stopped Cofsky and gently wiped her cheek clean with his thumb.

"Keep them apart!" Moreau ordered angrily. "I don't need them escaping, you idiots!"

Morgen staggered away, passing Nate as she went out the door. She felt him trying to get her attention, but she couldn't meet his gaze.

_Think, Morgen, think. Damien isn't following us. There are six men here with us, probably four or five more wherever we're headed._

"Where are we going, Cofsky?" she asked quietly.

He sniggered. "To a special place the boss likes to send prisoners. You've been there, Morgen."

_Ah. Of course. He'll put them in separate cells and I'll be sent to the interrogation room. Can't escape that prison without help from the outside. We'll get there in Damien's personal ride, most likely. Can't get out of that one, either._

She looked around and realized they were already going down the flights of stairs leading to the garage beneath.

_Think, Morgen!_

They came down another flight.

_My only option is to get Eliot to bash some faces in the garage. I can slip free and help him, then we can take a car out of here._

Morgen glanced at her brother, trying to get his attention. He was too far behind her to see. Morgen sighed with frustration.

"What's the matter?" Cofsky sniggered. "It's different when the boss doesn't like you anymore, isn't it, Morgen? I'll be you won' t be the favorite after this."

"I hated being the favorite," she said calmly. She felt Cofsky's hands stiffen and smiled. He had learned what it meant when she sounded nonchalant. "And I don't think you'll be taking my place anytime soon, so don't let that thought get comfortable."

He growled unintelligibly.

Morgen wiggled her fingers. _Good. I can move them._ She waited until they came to the bottom of the last staircase before moving forward, putting a little distance between herself and Cofsky.

Much to her dismay, six more guards waited by two large black vans. There was not another car in sight.

"Quite a lot of muscle for six prisoners, don't you think, Morgen?"

She turned her head towards Nate, who was very close to her side. "Damien doesn't like to take chances when dealing with people who used to work for him. Eliot and I are both threats to him."

"Not for long you aren't," Cofsky interjected. "Soon, you'll all be dead, even you, Morgen. Moreau doesn't have any more of the medicine you need, did you know that?"

Morgen couldn't help it. She started and stared at the burly man. "You're lying."

"I know better than to lie to you, Morgen Spencer. That supply you stole was the last he had. Notice you don't see Jackson anywhere? He died just last week."

Morgen forced her feet to keep moving, but the weight Cofsky had dropped dragged her down. Fear settled over her, twisting her stomach until she felt sick.

A sound from behind broke the silence. Morgen faintly recognized Eliot and Nate's voices. Cofsky threw her forward, yelling, "Take her, Robinson!"

"Run, Morgen!" Eliot shouted above the melee.

His voice jolted her into action. Three thick men reached for her. Without a pause, she ducked beneath one pair of hands. Dropping down, she swiped at the legs of another assailant, bringing him crashing to the floor. The third drew his gun and fired before she could react. Morgen ran close and broke the hand holding the gun, then she elbowed him in the face. The first man, who had wheeled around, grabbed her shoulder. Morgen put her hand over his, twisted, and thrust her palm into his jaw.

Someone came behind and pushed her forward towards the open gate and the busy city street beyond. There was the sound of car doors slamming shut and engines roaring to life. Morgen ran faster.

"Move!"

With a desperate leap, she jumped and rolled in the bushes next to Moreau's building. Branches cracked under her, and pain shot through her middle. Quickly, she sat up. The person who had led her out tried to push her back down.

"Nate?"

"Stay down!" he urged, pulling on her arm. Morgen obeyed robotically, crouching behind the thick shrubs. The vans had pulled into the street. One drove in the direction of the country, the other pulled into a side street. Morgen caught a glimpse of Cofsky in the driver's seat as he attempted to turn his vehicle around.

"Nate, they'll shoot us," Morgen whispered. "Are there any cars left in the garage?"

"Mine. I'll be back. Be ready to move."

Morgen heard him race back to the garage, then the sound of the engine.

_Sports car. Nice model. Fast._

Mogen kept her eyes on the van. Cofsky had managed to get back on the road without hitting anything, despite the squealing tires. It was much closer now, and Morgen wanted to scream at Nate to hurry up.

"Get in!"

Nate stopped long enough for her to throw herself in the passenger seat before he pressed his full weight on the gas pedal. The black sports car shot away, leaving Cofsky and his van trailing.

The windshield shattered. Morgen and Nate ducked as three more bullets whizzed past their heads. One buried itself in the backseat. Nate's brow furrowed as he weaved in and out of traffic. Morgen, crouching behind the protection of the headrest, peered at the van chasing them. Slowly, it disappeared from sight.

"You lost them," she said, releasing the breath she had held in. She slumped against the seat and clutched her stomach, realizing it hurt. Her hand came away wet and sticky. "I've been shot, Nate."

He glanced away from the road for a second. "Are you going to be okay?"

She peeled back her coat and lifted her shirt to survey the damage. "Yeah. Only one shot hit me. I won't die from this."

Cofsky's news hit her again, taking her breath away. _Poor choice of words, Morgen_.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To a secret hideout I made in case something like this should happen. I'll fix you up there, and you and I are going to have a long talk."

Morgen shifted in her seat. "Anther one?"

"Yeah, Morgen, another one. And this time, you'll tell me exactly what I want to know without leaving any details out."

She clenched her jaw as a wave of pain swept over her. "Wonderful."


	8. Chapter 8

The secret hideout turned out to be a small shack in the middle of a field at the end of a dirt road outside Boston city limits. Morgen had stopped the blood flow with her shirt, wrapping her jacket around herself, and Nate cut the hour-long trip down to twenty minutes. Morgen was thankful there was hardly a car on the road that night. When they pulled up to the house, Nate rushed to the other door. Morgen didn't have the strength or the will to object as he gently tugged her out of her seat and leaned her full weight on his shoulder.

"Alright, a few steps now," he crooned. Morgen tried to stifle a groan, but it slipped out anyway.

Nate flipped on the lights in the house and eased Morgen onto a dusty couch. She settled back, her head on the back of the couch. Once he had left the room, she scrunched her face and released a breath.

_Damien has Eliot. I'm stuck with Nate in the middle of some field, shot and without a plan. And I am now going to have to spill my guts to Nate for the second time this week. I need a drink._

Nate returned holding a glass filled with amber-colored liquid, as well as several other things Morgen guessed he would use to patch her up. Morgen let out a barking laugh, then a moan as her bruised robs protested.

"You read my mind, Nate," she gasped.

Nate shook his head silently and set the glass on a side table. "Not until you can sit up straight. I don't want whiskey all over my couch."

Morgen waited quietly while Nate peeled back her shirt and jacket and began to clean the wound. She pressed her mouth into a tight line, determined not to wince.

_He's so quiet. He's probably furious with me that Damien got away with his team._ She swallowed down a lump in her throat. _Eliot. I failed him. How did I not see this happening?_

"The bullet went right through you," Nate said. "It didn't puncture any of your organs, luckily." He sat her upright and wound a long bandage around her waist. "That will do for now."

Morgen leaned back once more, suddenly drowsy. Nate got a cloth wet and dabbed at the cut over her eye and down her temple. She felt Nate put the glass in her hand and lifted it to her mouth.

"How are you feeling?"

Morgen swallowed. "Tingly."

"Feel ready to talk?"

She pulled a wry face. "As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

"Good. Where is Moreau taking the team?"

"To a warehouse Moreau has made into a prison a few hours away from here." She heard her voice speaking, as though she was listening to another person. She sounded hollow and robotic.

"What is he going to do with them?"

Morgen took another draft of her drink. "He'll probably wait until he's caught us before he tries to kill them. Until then, they'll stay in their own separate cells unless Damien tells his men to interrogate them."

Nate nodded. "Moreau plans on killing you, too? I thought you were the favorite."

"_Was_ the favorite. I double-crossed him, remember? And Damien will have the pleasure of kicking my dead body one way or another."

Nate nodded, pursing his lips. "What did Cofsky mean back at the garage?"

_No. Please don't ask me that._ "What are you talking about?"

Nate didn't say a word. He simply stared at her, and she realized he would be one of the few people able to see past her mask and read her thoughts.

"It's a long story," she said, subdued.

"We've got a bit of time."

She hesitated.

"Morgen, you are going to have to trust me." He placed his hands on his knees. "I can be a help or a hindrance to you. It's your choice."

She drained the rest of the glass. "I've heard this speech dozens of times, Nathan Ford, and everyone who preached it left me when it was convenient for them to bail out. How are you any different?"

He shrugged. "Well, Eliot trusts me, for one thing. You and I both have the same enemy, for another. And you asked me to do the same thing for you."

Morgen took a deep breath. "Fair enough," she said resignedly. She set the empty glass on the side table. "When Eliot first brought me to Damien, he demanded my loyalty to him. I was loyal to no one but my brother, so Damien had to find another way to force it. He did similar things to the rest of his favorites. It was a way to make sure they didn't leave him and they would give him the results he wanted."

Nate sat next to her on the couch. "What did he do to you, Morgen?"

Morgen clenched her jaw and balled her hands into fists, trying to physically stop herself from talking. "He knows someone who works with rare and deadly viruses. He got his hands on a few samples and… injected me with one. It makes my body start to shut down slowly. He had an antidote, and he would give me a dose of it if I did what I was told to do. It slowed down the virus for a bit, but I had to keep doing well in order to get another dose."

"So when you left Moreau, you stole the rest of the antidote he had," Nate finished gravely. "Where can you get more?"

"I heard the supplier was here in Boston. That's why I came here. I was making sure the amount I had would last me until I found out where he was, but Damien gave me the last of it three days ago."

Morgen shut her eyes. _But now that Eliot is with Damien, I won't have time to rescue him and find the antidote._

"Last question, Morgen, then you can sleep. Why did you try to help us?"

Morgen felt a grim smile tug at her mouth. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. "I didn't plan to. When Damien told me to bring your team to him in body bags, I was going to. Eliot was in danger if I didn't, and I don't care much what happens to others if he's safe. Then I found out he was part of your team, which didn't complicate things too much for me until I saw how much you meant to my brother.

"I don't know what happened. I hung out with you all to figure out your schedules and the best way to let Damien have you, and somewhere along the way I didn't want to let him get you. I figured Eliot was happier with you than he was with me, and I knew I had to do whatever it took to keep it that way."

"Even if you died in the process?"

"Eliot doesn't know what Damien did to me. I'd rather he think I just disappeared than know that I died because he'll blame himself. I can't bear the thought of leaving him when he's going to torture himself over something that wasn't his fault." She turned her head to look at Nate. He could see the tears glittering in her eyes, but she didn't care now. "I'd give anything just to know that Eliot is safe and happy."

Nate didn't say anything. He wiped the tears away from Morgen's cheek, then rose and left the room with a final, "Get some sleep, Morgen. We'll tackle this in the morning."

Morgen brought her legs up and put her head on the arm of the couch. The drink had made her head a little cloudy, but it failed to numb the pain or silence her dark thoughts. She rubbed her forehead with her finger and prepared herself for a long night.

_**End Part One**_


End file.
